Survivors BBC PostFinale Fic: Cataclysm
by ObsessedFanstar58
Summary: *SPOILERS for Season 1 finale!* How will the survivors deal with the disastrous events that occurred in the season finale? 7th Chapter: BREAKING POINT now uploaded! 14,000 w! Yay! Rated T for Teen.
1. Chapter 1: Cataclysm

_Author's Note: This is just a very short beginning to the Cataclysm fic. I'm going to write more chapters for it, I just need to plan what I'm going to do next. :P_

_*Disclaimer: No characters, settings, events or anything that appears in this fic is owned by me. It is the property of Terry Nation, his publishers, the British Broadcasting Company, and their affiliates. Not me. No copyright infringement intended.*_

**SPOILER ALERT - Spoilers for the Survivors Season 1 finale. If you haven't seen that episode, this fic will ruin it for you****. =(**

_~Thanks for Reading, Hope you Enjoy my Fic!~_

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Survivors Fanfic - Post Finale, Pt. I

"Cataclysm"

In just under a minute, Abby Grant had been seized by a bunch of men in gas masks, and whisked away in a helicopter bound for who-knows-where, leaving behind nothing but a bullet in Greg and a shocked silence between the rest of the stunned survivors. As Abby's frightened screams ceased suddenly (she had been knocked unconscious when the men in masks threw her roughly into the truck), the other survivors' minds were wreaked with confusion and disbelief.

There was a moment, when everything seemed as still and calm as though the kidnapping had never taken place, that the remaining survivors stood in stunned silence as they tried to think of a reason why innocent, conventional Abby was taken while the rest of them were spared.

They tried not to think of the loss of Abby, their leader, for it was a heavy blow that would only inflict further pain upon them, well-meaning people that had lost everything because of the virus, but had thought their lives were about to turn around for the better.

The numb silence was broken when Anya rushed over to Greg's side and tried to suppress the steady flow of blood and keep him conscious at the same time. He was shot in the shoulder, bleeding badly, but still alive.

"Tom," called Anya, trying to be brave and calm for Greg's sake. "I could use your help over here."

Tom turned white when he saw the severity of his friend's injury, and stayed rooted to the spot.

"Tom, please! I need your jacket to make a tourniquet for Greg," Anya ordered, with greater urgency. Seeing Tom's blank expression, she hastily explained, "It'll stop the bleeding. Now please, cover the wound while I tie this around him."

Tom obeyed, and took his shirt off as well so that he could fashion it into a pillow for Greg. "Just relax, buddy," he soothed as Greg groaned, "the doc's going to have you good as new in no time." Anya nodded her thanks, but did not smile.

As Anya held the tourniquet in place, biting her lip thoughtfully, Tom frowned. "What about the bullet?"

"What about it?" replied Anya, stoically, without even looking at Tom. She was obviously in cryptic-doctor mode.

"Well, I'm no MD or anything, but surely you're going to have to remove it, aren't you?" asked Tom gently, so as not to worry Greg.

Anya looked Tom straight in the eyes, this time her eyes were hard. "Now is not the time nor the place," she told him firmly. "Once the bleeding stops, we'll carry him gently back to the house, and I'll perform the surgery there." She looked away from Tom and put on a tough facade, even though she was really quite frightened. Without the proper medical tools, there was so much that could go wrong. If she removed the bullet now, Greg could bleed even worse, possibly to death. If she left it in, it would poison him, and he would die. Either way, without a clean environment or the proper antibiotics, he would get a horrible infection and die a slow and painful death.

Tom looked uneasily at Greg, who was lying with his eyes closed. "D'you think you can save him?" he asked flatly.

Anya looked back at him with a flicker of determination in her eyes. "I'll do everything I can."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Author's Note: There are so many different ways I could take this story, my fingers are tingling with possibilities. Another chapter should be up in a couple days or so. =) In the meantime, how about a review? Haha. :P Seriously though, any feedback is always appreciated. =)  
_

_(to be continued)_


	2. Chapter 2: Turning Around

_UPDATE: 23 July 2009_

_Okay, sorry for the wait, I was suffering from a particularly lovely case of writer's block. Luckily all it took for me to recover was a bunch of nice reviews from Fategirl, Elizabeth and LilaMae and a trip to my friends' farm. lol. As far as I know, I'm covered in cat scratches, I smell like a horse, and I have chicken business all over my shoes, but at least my writer's block is gone! Yay!!_

_I also want to say thanks very much for the lovely reviews (Fategirl, Elizabeth and LilaMae)! :) They really mean a lot, and inspired me to continue. I hope you like these two new additions! I tried to make them a lot longer. Hopefully they were worth the wait!_

_

* * *

  
_

**Survivors Fanfic - Post Finale, Pt.1**

**Chapter 2: "Turning Around"**

"Excellent. The bleeding's stopped. Help me carry him to the car," ordered Anya, who was trying to be a lot more cheerful than she felt at that moment. She knew she was overcompensating, but anything less and she'd break down crying in hopelessness. Tom had taken his shirt-pillow back and put it on before he helped Anya lift Greg.

With only Anya and Tom carrying Greg, and Sarah following them like a lost puppy, obviously debating whether or not to help them, the four survivors gingerly made their way down the steps, though the doors of the mall, and to their car.

"Tom, you drive, me and Greg will sit in the back. Help me lay him down...That's it," Anya almost lost her composure, for she had just thought that it would be a tight squeeze in the car with Greg lying down in the back with Anya, and that was nothing compared to how even more cramped it would have been if Abby was safely with them.

"You alright?" asked Tom, concerned. Anya's voice was so high-pitched, it sounded like it belonged to a mouse. Her act was clearly not fooling him.

Anya nodded bleakly, and turned her unexpected sob into a cough. Frankly, she couldn't believe how upset she was at losing Naj and Abby, when she had been so strong after the virus hit and all her friends and lovers had died right before her eyes. There was that one moment of madness in the medical lab, when she tried to kill herself...Anya winced when she remembered that. It just seemed like everything had been going so well and then it all...collapsed and she would be all alone again.

She slid her slender frame under Greg's head, and propped his head up on her lap so she could ensure his safety, and willed herself not to cry.

Tom walked over to Anya's side of the car, and came right up to her. He squeezed her shoulder, and didn't say a word. There were no words he could say. Then he let go, and Anya felt strange; as though an electrical charge of some sort had passed from Tom's hand through her shoulder. Tom walked away to the other side of the car and took the driver's seat.

Sarah had finally caught up with them, which was weird because Anya and Tom had not been that far ahead of her, and they had been moving very slowly because they had been carrying Greg.

She looked, bewildered at Tom in the driver's seat, Greg safely nestled in the back, his head in Anya's lap, and the empty passenger's seat, beside Tom. Her eyes widened and she looked over at Anya, pointing at the empty seat. "You...you want me to..."

Anya nodded dutifully at Sarah without emotion. "Up front, Sarah, please. If you don't mind."

She didn't.

Sarah quickly took her place beside Tom, and the only sound was the car engine struggling. As if things could get worse.

______________________________________________________

"And that poor kid, Darren, I don't even know what happened to him. I want to go look for him once we meet up with the others. Wouldn't it be great if he could come live with us? And where are we going now? I mean, Abby said we have to move, and we had to leave the chickens behind...Where is she anyway? Al? So where are we going? Al? Al!?"

"Whoa, cool it, bud. I can only answer one question at a time!" Al scolded. He was really glad that Naj was safely back with his fellow survivors, but the kid had been talking for about three hours straight. Huh? Nope, only twenty minutes, as confirmed by the five grand watch that Al had attempted to trade for Naj's return. Luckily, he'd beaten someone up, got Naj, _and_ his watch back. It had been a good day.

He took a deep breath and prepared to answer all the boy's questions.

"If we find Darren, I guess we could bring him back. I mean, if he helped you out, and he's all sick and alone now. If we find him, I guess he could come with us. I don't think Abby would have it any other way. And besides, if we can put up with you, we can handle another kid," joked Al, who lightly punched Naj in the arm. The boy grinned, but signalled for Al to continue.

"Um, and we're going back to your house. That's where we said we would meet up. Once the others come back, then we'll find somewhere else to go."

Naj nodded eagerly, prompting Al to tell him more.

"We don't know where we're going to go yet. We do know that we can't go back, and we might have to leave the country even. Once we're all together again, we'll decide what to do."

Naj nodded again, but looked a bit unsure.

"Oh, and Abby felt bad about yelling at you and all before you ran away. She said we can keep the chickens. And they were among the only things left behind when a couple of bloody looters took our stuff."

"REALLY, I can keep the chickens!? Oh that's great! I can't wait to see her again and tell her how grateful I am that we get to keep the chickens!" Naj celebrated for a few seconds before his smile vanished and he asked sheepishly, "I suppose I should tell her I'm sorry for running away and all too. Was she terribly worried that I'd gone?"

"Oh, man, 'course she was. Poor thing was worried sick. But all of us were. You really shouldn't have left us like that. We all were worried to death."

"Aww...I really shouldn't have run away. So stupid..."

"Hey, don't worry little buddy," Al grinned, trying to cheer Naj up. "What matters is that you're right here where you belong: annoying the bloody hell out of me." He reached over and tousled the boy's hair.

"Abby's going to be thrilled you're all right. And I bet your chickens missed you too."

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Now, if you have the time, I'd love a review from you! Please tell me what you thought, whether you hated it, liked it, etc._


	3. Chapter 3: Calming the Calamity

_Here's another one! Just want to make something clear. Right now, Al and Naj are together and they don't know about Abby and Greg. Anya, Tom, Sarah, and Greg are together, and they don't know Naj is safe and sound. Hope you like this! Constructive criticism always appreciated! =)_

**

* * *

**

**Survivors Fanfic - Post Finale, Pt. 1**

**Chapter 3: "Calming the Calamity"**

Abby had regained consciousness, but could see only black when she opened her eyes. At first, she feared she had gone blind, but relaxed once her eyes adjusted to the low light and realized she was unharmed. She felt her heart race when she couldn't remember where she was, but Abby tried her best not to panic. The fact that she was alone only heightened her worry, and she immediately thought of the others. Were they all right? Did they find Najid? Was Greg all right? Where was Anya? What about the others?

Racking her brain, and trying to recall where she was, Abby suddenly caught sight of a square, gray light that could only be a window. It was tinted, so the cars outisde on the road couldn't see her. Flagging one down for help, or even an explanation, was not an option. The jostling and large storage compartment she was being held prisoner in confirmed what she had feared, and all her memories came flooding back...

Abby Grant was in a truck, since a bunch of strange men in gas masks and full body suits had kidnapped her, shot Greg, and taken her with them to who-knows-where. She heard voices in the front of the vehicle, and knew at once that it was the strange men who had taken her. Their voices were muffled, and she caught a few words...her name, something about the virus, and more about an experiment...A shiver went up her spine when she considered the possibility of her being the subject of the experiment.

Abby again tried to calm herself down again, and assured herself that these men were people too, and they wouldn't harm or scare her any further. Maybe she could even talk them into letting her go. Abby had committed no crime; surely they wouldn't hurt an innocent human being...would they? They weren't part of Samantha's troupe, but was it possible they were even more severe than her? That was hard to believe, but then again, Abby knew she would have trouble believing that people would do such terrible things to each other. But whether she believed people were generally good or not, bad things still happened to good people, and the bad people seemed to get ahead more often than not. So if these possibly evil men weren't with the government, who the bloody hell were they? And what would they do with her?

Abby was so confused and frustrated that she didn't know what was going on, or what would happen to her, she was mortified to feel her eyes brimming with tears. She brushed them away angrily and fought the urge to cry; she would not let these men see her in a vulnerable state, they would only try to antagonize her further. Whatever plans they had with her would be carried out with her steely stare boring into their eyes. As long as she was fearless, and gave them no reaction, maybe they would let her go?

Even though she knew she was just fooling herself, Abby kept telling herself that these men were only trying to help, and didn't mean to scare her. Maybe they were trying to reunite her with Peter! Her friends would probably meet her at the end and everything would be fine. As long as she kept pretending everything would be okay, Abby promised that she would keep going strong, without crying or showing weakness in any way. She even plastered a smile on her face. As she cowered in the far corners of the cold, dark truck, trembling in the dark, scared out of her mind, Abby fruitlessly struggled to suppress her fearful worries about whether she was going to see her son or her friends ever again, and whether this was going to be the end for her.

"I have to be strong...f-for Peter."

_________________________________________________________________

Once Anya, Tom and Sarah had left the mall with Greg, it seemed as though a giant weight had been lifted off their shoulders, but all three were still ill at ease. Tom's frown softened slightly, Sarah's previously tense position while riding shotgun relaxed slightly, and Anya felt confident that she could save Greg. She planned how she would perform Greg's surgery and heal his wounds, which conveniently kept her mind off Abby.

Everyone kept silent throughout the entire drive home; they didn't dare say anything to reflect on the horrible events that had just occurred. It was as though if they avoided speaking them aloud, they could pretend they never happened. Even Sarah said nothing until they were about halfway to Al's apartment.

"D'you think he's found Naj yet?"

There was no response from Anya or Tom. Tom was still furious at Sarah for betraying the fact that Anya was a doctor to the government. Sarah had originally going to be taken away, but once she told the government Anya was a doctor, they wanted her instead. Sarah had just wanted to save herself, and thought that Tom would like her better if Anya wasn't around. But now Anya was back, and as far as Sarah was concerned, Tom thought she could rot in hell.

Anya said nothing because she was afraid she would burst into tears if she said anything on the matter; Naj would make two friends she had lost in such a short time, three, if something bad happened to Greg. And what about Jenny and Patricia? It was bad enough lovable little Naj was gone, but Abby...and now Greg...It was all just too much. And what if someone else disappeared too? What if Tom was next? Anya said nothing, and didn't have the heart to tell Sarah she had lost hope for finding Naj.

Sarah, thankfully, picked up on the tenseness in the air and didn't repeat her question. Three times Sarah tried to squeeze Tom's free hand in comfort and three times she failed; thrice she was unrequited by Tom, and thrice Anya was not looking.

The car got nearer and nearer to Naj's old apartment, and the survivors' dread of being the bearers of several accounts of bad news only increased. After losing Naj, the horrible news about Abby's kidnapping and Greg's serious condition would surely be a crushing blow. They would all have to have some sort of meeting. They had to find out how to help Greg, where they would live, and how they could save Abby, if they could.

* * *

_Hope you liked this! I'm definitely on a roll now. I should have another chapter up in a few days._


	4. Chapter 4: Divided Attention and Trust

_Update 3 August: Alright, so I didn't update as soon as I wanted to...but here's an extra long chapter to make up for it. (Woot! 2497 w!) I even added a bit more of Tom and Anya (Tomya?) at the end, due to a request for more of them. =) Thanks for all the great reviews LilaMae, Fategirl, and Bella. Your support is very much appreciated. :)_

_

* * *

_**Survivors Post Finale Fic: Cataclysm**

**Chapter 4: Divided Attention and Trust**

Once Anya, Tom, Sarah, and the incapacitated Greg arrived at Naj's abandoned apartment as promised, they were shocked but thrilled to see not one but two young men on the balcony. Anya couldn't help but smile weakly to herself as she playfully asked them to turn around. Naj's boyish face split broadly into a delighted grin as he threw his arms around Anya. Al nodded and smiled proudly, and Anya knew she would have to hear the story behind the boy's return later.

So he had returned safely. Anya was glad, to say the least. Naj's reuniting with the group of survivors was the first piece of good news she'd had since before the virus. For a minute, everything seemed all well and good in the world and she could smile freely again. But once she saw Al and Naj's eyes cloud over as they focused on a flicker of movement behind her - Tom carrying Greg's limp form - Anya was thrown back into reality and down to earth as her moment of cheer felt stolen away.

"What's wrong with Greg?" asked surprisingly calm Najid, concerned for his fellow survivor. Al did nothing but stare at Greg with eyes filled with sorrow and sympathy. He looked over at Sarah, who looked miserable and equally out of place as well.

Anya closed her eyes in a blink that lasted a few seconds too long, wondering how she could provide Naj with enough information to answer his question, but without lying to him or causing him to worry.

"He's been seriously injured. We have to care for him and make him well."

"And he's going to get better? Can I help?"

"We'll just have to wait and see, Naj. No more questions for now. Greg needs me to make him better."

Naj frowned, obviously skeptical. Looking around for a second, he turned to Tom who had laid Greg gently on the kitchen table. "Where's Abby?"

"She said no more questions, bud," Al scolded the youngest survivor. He looked questioningly over at Tom once Naj wasn't looking. Tom's eyes remained emotionless. Dead.

"We're to have a meeting tonight. No words 'til then," stated Tom flatly.

The stunned looks of Sarah and Al did nothing to mute the sting of Naj's frightful glare. Tom ignored it.

"Now, if you wanted to make yourselves useful, I s'pose you could go get more supplies, we lost a lot while we --"

"--No, I think we should talk about it now. Something's happened, hasn't it?" Najid's eyes widened, surprised by his own outburst for a moment, and out of breath. Regaining his initial resolve, Naj continued, "Why didn't Abby come back with you? Who shot Greg? Is he really going to be okay? Where's Abby? What's happened to her? And don't you dare tell me anything besides the truth!"

Al put a hand on Naj's shoulder in support. A visage of satisfaction and awe was cast over Sarah's previously sullen face like a magic trick. Tom's stone expression remained lifeless.

"No words 'til the meeting." Tom repeated firmly. Then he looked outspoken Najid directly in the eye. "Naj, listen up. Now's not the time nor the place. Once Anya's saved Greg, and he can put in his two cents on the matter, only then'll we think about anything else." Tom knew that if they jumped the gun on rescuing Abby, when they didn't know where to look, were injured and were out of food, they could lose not just Abby, but Greg too. Maybe others if they weren't careful. While Abby was definitely worth the risk, they could not afford to take it right now.

Naj still didn't back down. "What can we do, then?"

"What d'you mean, what can you do?"

"You were just saying how we could make ourselves useful," piped up Al.

"How can we help Greg? Or anyone for that matter." Naj asked.

Tom nodded approvingly, and addressed all three of them again. "Right. So when we were in the city, we lost all our food and water. Damn looters..."

"--So you want us to go get more stuff?" interjected Al.

"Precisely, Diva, since every human being needs 'stuff' to survive. We need food, water, blankets. It's not going to be fun, and it's not going to be easy..."

"Well you can come help us, Tom, if you like." interrupted Sarah, who seemed more than a little insecure about going with just Al and Naj.

"What I would _like_ is to finish a damn sentence!" Tom snapped. Everyone fell silent. "Now listen. This city isn't safe. One member of our group's been injured and another's been taken. I don't like this place, and the looters are guaranteed to be hanging around the shopping malls and all."

No one said a word, though Najid's eyes widened when Tom said a member had been taken. _Abby_...

Tom rolled his eyes. "I need you three to check every room of this apartment for supplies. Very carefully. Surely the looters have left some behind..."

"--Oh God, with all those dead bodies and everything!?" whimpered Sarah, frightened.

"Y'know Sarah, if you haven't anything useful or productive to say, you might as well not say anything," Tom retorted. "Anyways, like I was saying, I don't want you lot to get in over your heads, just come back once you've searched the whole apartment. So who's in?"

"I'll do it." said Naj, without skipping a beat.

"Me too." Al agreed. The two young men high-fived each other.

There was no word from Sarah. Al and Naj turned to her. "Aren't you comin' with us, Sarah?" asked Naj.

"She really could use the brownie points," muttered Al.

"If you're not going to pull your own weight, you're outta here. Is that clear?" Tom snapped. "It's your choice, Sarah. You can either help out or be on your merry way."

Sarah looked like she was going to cry.

Tom sneered. "Right. Why didn't I see it earlier? I'll bet you told those men to take Abby away just Ôcause you couldn't stand how everyone liked and looked up to her. The one person who actually let you stay in the first place and cared whether you lived or died. Did you think Greg would like you better once she was gone? What? I mean, you did it with Anya --"

"--NO! I never told them to take Abby! I never even so much as met them!" Sarah shrieked. "And I'm SORRY about what happened to Anya! I'm SORRY! I just...I just..." Sarah knelt to the ground and started blubbering like a baby, a wet, blonde, sobbing mess.

"You just what?" asked Naj promptly, who was surprising not without sympathy for Sarah despite what she had done to his friend.

"You don't...You don't know what it's like to be hated and isolated among the only people left in the world...Everyone loved and trusted each other and no matter what I did, I was despised. I was the weakest link. Always second best," Sarah spat bitterly. "Honestly...I never wanted anything bad to happen to Anya. I was just scared. I was f-frightened to death and I...I just jumped at the possibility of saving my own skin, and being at least tolerated, maybe even loved by you."

"It's not going to happen, Sarah." Tom shook his head firmly.

Sarah looked up and all of a sudden wore a fierce mask as she struggled to keep her tears under control. "I'm trying...really I am! I want to pull my own weight, really..."

"Okay, great. Then come with us, and quit selling us out. We're supposed to be friends now and friends don't do that to each other," Naj replied earnestly, without skipping a beat.

Al extended a hand to help Sarah off the ground. "You in or what?"

Sarah took Al's hand and got off the ground. She still looked absolutely miserable, defeated. Finally she wiped the last of her tears away and whispered feebly, "Guess so."

***

Once Al, Sarah and Naj had set off in search of food, Tom went into Naj's apartment and met Anya in the kitchen/operating room.

"Hey."

"Hello, Tom. If you're going to be in here, I'll need you to wear these." Anya rushed over to him with a pair of sterilized medical gloves. "We have to keep everything clean."

Tom nodded and put on the gloves as Anya went over to Greg's side to prepare his wound. He couldn't help but just watch Anya as she worked. Even all the running around made her cheeks beautifully rosy. Her hair was tied up in preparation to operate on Greg's wound, and Tom couldn't help but wonder why she didn't wear her hair like that more often. Strangely enough, while Anya was running around like a madman, Tom found her presence calm and soothing. _Whoa, watch it! _Tom thought to himself, _you better not be falling for the doc!_

Anya froze for a second and turned around slowly, sporting a pair of medical gloves of her own, a hairnet, and surgical mask. Tom marvelled silently at how beautiful she could still look, even when her face was mostly covered up.

"What?"

"What d'you mean, what?" Tom asked, quietly.

"You were just...watching me."

"Well, no offense to Naj's parents or anything, but you just happen to be the most interesting thing in this room." Tom replied, nonchalantly.

Anya's lips twitched in what could have been a smile before she suddenly sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor. Peeling off her mask and gloves, Anya buried her head in her hands and choked back a sob.

was by her side in an instant. "Hey, now. What's the matter?"

"I can't stand to watch another person I respect slip away..." Anya said quietly, trying very hard not to cry. "Patricia, Jenny, Abby and now Greg!" Her voice cracked on each name and by the end she was unable to hold it together any longer. "I can't do this," she sobbed, as if Tom wasn't there. "I'm a terrible person. I'm a t-terrible person and an even worse f-friend..."

Tom squeezed her hand comfortingly. "Shh. Now, why would you say something like that? You happen to be one of the sweetest people I know."

Anya shook her head. "No. I can't do this. I can't be pretty like Patricia. I can't be strong like Abby. I can't save Greg, and I can't fill Abby's shoes as leader. Everyone looks up to her, and I can't stand the possibility that they might look to me now that she's gone." Anya cried even harder. "I have to save Greg. I have to look after Naj, and make breakfast, lunch and dinner for the rest of us. I have to make plans for the future and reassure everyone that everything's going to be okay, and put on a smile when I feel like killing myself..."

Tom offered Anya a tissue and she grabbed it from him gratefully. Blowing her nose, she continued. "And now, I'm upset. Not because Abby was like a sister to me and Greg is one of my best friends who is leader when Abby's not. No. The reason I'm sad is because I don't want to take over for her or Greg now that she's not coming back and Greg is too ill to lead the others. I probably sound as if I don't even miss her, Tom, but I do...I really do..."

Tom pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. "No, Anya. You won't be alone. You'll always have my help. You, me and the others are a team. And together as a team, we're going to get Abby back. And you're an amazing doc. Saving Greg is going to be a breeze for you, and we'll keep Abby's seat warm until she's able to come back."

Anya sniffled but remained quiet.

"Of course you miss Abby. We all do. And we're all worried sick about Greg. It's all understandable. If you want to be sad, go ahead. Don't force yourself to be happy when you're not. Strength isn't forcing yourself to be happy. It's telling the truth when you have to, and pulling through even if you're scared or sad. After the meeting tonight, we're all going to be scared and sad, but after that, we'll pull through it, all together and lay out the plans for what to do next. Don't ever try to be something you're not, Anya, because everyone here loves you the way you are."

Anya nodded amd wiped her tears away. Slowly but surely, she replaced her mask, and gloves and sought out her medical tools. Shakily, she announced, "Greg is going to be just fine. I'll make sure of it."

* * *

_Author's Note: Sorry this fic is going at such a slow pace...I'll try to speed things up so that it's not so boring. And my next chapter will have Abby, since I haven't really written anything about her lol. I hope the Tomya wasn't too annoying. I know I kind of wrote Tom to be kind of out of character, but I was trying to show the remaining characters are all kind of trying to replace Abby in their own ways. Plus, Tom definitely has his moments of sweetness, I think. Like when he was talking to Sean through the door and told him to let Kate back in the house. And I do love it when people are mean to Sarah, lol.  
_

_Anyway, sorry about the monologue. You know I like it when you review, so please do. :) I really appreciate it! Next chapter will be more centred on Abby!_


	5. Chapter 5: Trapped

_Update 13 August 2009_

_I've got the massive fifth Chapter up finally. :) I think it's a HUGE bit longer than the other chapters. Hopefully that's a good thing. Thanks a million to Lila and Bella for their reviews! Your encouragement really means a lot to me. Thanks so much for reading! This chapter focuses mostly on Abby and her arrival at the scientists' facility, and I tried to make it move a bit faster and more suspenseful/interesting. There were a few things I was unsure of, like Sami's last name. I just called him Sami Petrelli, lol. Anyway, here goes! Hope you like this!  
_

_*LilaMae thank you for correcting Sami's last name. It is Masood. lol. I've changed it now*  
_

_

* * *

_

BBC Survivors Post-Finale Fanfic - Cataclysm

Chapter 5: Trapped

Anya worked into the wee hours of the night caring for Greg. It seemed for a few moments that things were going horribly wrong, but with the constant encouragement of Tom, the operation proved successful. It was just as well that the others - Al, Naj, and a bitterly reluctant Sarah - had been ordered by Tom to go collect food in the entire apartment building; they had missed the worst of the surgery. Greg's eyes opened the next morning and he could sit up in bed by lunch. He was exhausted and still required a lot of rest and care so the wound didn't get infected, but Anya herself felt satisfied and emotionally refreshed, the way she always felt when she'd saved someone's life.

Tom nodded expectantly at the three youngest survivors when they returned the next morning, on their second trip through the building.

"So, did you find anything today?"

Naj looked away guiltily. "Not a whole lot." He dropped a small bag at Tom's feet. It fell to the ground with a small clank. _There must be a couple cans of food in there at the most_, thought Tom ruefully.

"There's nothing left." Al agreed. "I guess we've picked this place clean, not that there was much to begin with."

"Most of it had already gone bad," added Sarah dutifully.

Tom nodded slowly. It was clear that they couldn't stay here any longer. Greg was almost ready to travel. They could be out of here in two days at the most.

"Couldn't we just take some eggs from the chickens?" asked Naj, hopefully.

Tom shook his head. "They haven't been laying. We don't have enough space in this apartment. We need to find a place where the chickens are comfortable enough to lay eggs, like a field or something." Tom sighed frustratedly. "We've got to get the bloody hell out of here. Soon as Greg's better."

"But we can't just leave without Abby," protested Naj. "How's she supposed to find us again?"

"Naj, I don't know if you've noticed this or not, but we haven't got one clue to tell us where Abby could possibly be. She could even be dead or dying now, and I wouldn't be able to do the slightest thing. I've told you, we have to take care of ourselves before we go running off after her. Otherwise, we'll be trapped in an even worse situation. She would do the same for us." Tom said firmly.

"No..."

The others turned around to look at Anya, who hadn't said a word until that point.

"She wouldn't. You know Abby, Tom. She would put herself at risk to rescue her friends if they were in need." She stepped closer to Tom, as she spoke. "You know this, and it makes you feel guilty that you're not doing the same, doesn't it?"

Tom froze, and shook his head sadly. "It doesn't matter how I feel. What's important is that we prepare before we do anything. Right now, we probably wouldn't survive the search for Abby. And while Abby would search until it literally killed her, we can't afford to do that now. She would understand, I know she would."

Anya sighed, but her eyes remained emotionless. "If you say so."

Tom nodded gruffly. "Right. So I suggest you guys expand the town, see if you can find anything that might be useful. Food, water, the like."

Al groaned.

"But we'll get mugged by looters if we go out there!" cried Sarah.

"So take this."

Tom had gone inside the apartment and came out a moment later, this time with a large gun. Gavin's gun.

Al and Naj stared at it in awe. Sarah glanced at it, obviously uninterested. Tom thrust it heavily into Al's outstretched arms.

"I doubt any looters will want to mess with you if you have this baby in your possession." declared Tom, confidently. "Just a few rules. Remember to leave the car within thirty feet of you, and whatever you do, don't split up," he advised. "The second you sense danger, run for the car. Keep your eyes and ears open at all times.

Naj, Al and Sarah nodded obediently.

Tom mock-saluted them. "Bring back everything you find, even if it's a few days over the expiry date. Good luck."

**************

The truck carrying Abby Grant halted abruptly and the petrified woman careened into the side of the truck compartment that imprisoned her. They had finally stopped and Abby was reacquainted with the sinking, nauseous feeling that reminded her that she was marked for death. Sweat gathered in her clenched palms as she heard the men step out of the truck and their footsteps multiply in volume and speed as they approached the back of the truck where Abby was. The back doors of the truck opened, and there was a hiss of air, as if she was being placed in a decompression cell.

Abby was immediately dragged roughly out of the vehicle by two men in gas-resistant suits. She tried her best to fight them off, but she was no match for the strong men that held her. They seemed to find it amusing, the fact that she was trying to resist them like a feisty kitten. Once she was in the room, the men fled and she was alone.

Trying not to let her fear overwhelm her, Abby looked around the cell. It was clean. Way too clean. It was so white, it hurt her eyes to look at it. The air in this room was so strange; empty, as if all the nutrients had been sucked out of it.

Abby nearly jumped her height when a muffled voice addressed her, startling her. It sounded like it belonged very much to a young man.

"Abby Grant?" asked the speaker.

Abby offered no response.

"Can't you hear me?"

Abby remained silent. The speaker paused as well, waiting for her response.

"It's Abby Grant, correct?"

"Who wants to know?" Abby demanded brusquely of the speaker.

She seemed to catch him off guard. "Um...My name is Dr. Sami Masood."

_Doctor? Hmm...What is going on here...?_

"Is this Ms. Grant?"

"It's Mrs. Grant, actually," Abby corrected.

"Ah, alright." There was a pause, as he wrote the information down. "Does your husband live with you?"

"He's dead."

"Oh. I'm very sorry."

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," Abby mumbled sarcastically.

"Yes, sorry. Full name please?"

"Listen, Doctor. I'm not sure what you want with me, but I'm not ill at all. I don't need a doctor, and I haven't done anything wrong. I think you have the wrong person."

The man on the other side of the speaker sighed. "I'm afraid we don't, Abby. May I call you Abby?"

"As long as you get to the point, Dr. Masood," replied Abby icily.

"Right. Now, Abby, I know you're scared and you don't know where you are or what's going to happen to you, but I assure you nothing bad is going to happen to you. Just trust me, do what I say, and you'll be fine."

Abby's eyes widened and she let out an indignant laugh. "So, after your big strong lacheys kidnapped me away from my home, my friends and everything I know, and injured a very good friend of mine, now's the time for me to trust a tiny little man I've never met, who hides behind a speaker and acts too scared to talk to me? Is that what you're trying to make me believe!?" she demanded of the speaker, pointedly.

Sami was silent for a moment. "Please remain calm, Mrs. Grant, and I'll explain - "

"I AM CALM!" snapped Abby hypocritically; having clearly lost her patience.

"Right. Now I'll explain. This is a facility equipped with nearly a hundred scientists and doctors trying to develop an effective vaccine for the virus. And right now, we need your help."

Abby raised her chin defiantly. "What makes you think I'm going to want to help you, after your men treated me so badly?"

Sami seemed prepared for that answer. "You seem like such a lovely person, so willing to help others. Don't you want to help the hundreds of thousands of remaining people of the world survive another wave of the virus?"

Abby gulped. So there were only hundreds of thousands of people left in the world...

"Abby, you've got to help. You're special. Somehow you got the virus, and got really sick, but your body won. No one else has lived through it. Not one."

Abby's eyes widened and she sighed defeatedly. "Are you with the government?" she asked accusingly. "You know, with Samantha Willis? Or the thug Dexter?"

There were a few seconds of whispering behind the box before Sami's answer rang out loud and clear. "I've never heard of this Samantha person. And I assure you we're not with the government. We're a bit more global than that. And we focus directly with medicine and making vaccines."

Abby thought that over. So they weren't with Samantha... And they were stronger...What if they were even worse than Samantha? Abby worried. Turning her attention back to the speaker, she whispered, "Why couldn't I have helped you where I was? Why did you have to kidnap me like this? Didn't you ever think of just asking me to help you?"

Sami sighed, and before he could answer, there was the sound of a door slamming through the speaker.

"Good day, Whitaker," whispered Sami. Abby could tell he sounded a bit fearful speaking to his superior.

"I was waiting in the testing room for over ten minutes. Why is the specimen not in the examination room?" came the harsh reply. His voice was so cruel sounding, Abby felt it cut through her like a knife, causing her to shudder uncontrollably. She had been reduced to a mere lab rat? Surely these scientists didn't value her life...what if the success in the vaccine meant Abby's death? Then she would never be reunited with Peter...

"Her name's Abby Grant, Dr. Whitaker," said Sami in defence of Abby, "and she is no specimen. She is a very special human being who just might be able to help us with our research."

Abby flinched. She didn't know what was worse, being called a lab rat, or being fought over by two scientists as if she was an object for sale.

She heard heavy breathing; Whitaker had stepped up to the speaker and called her as one would call a dog. "Over here! Now!"

Abby was so afraid of this scary sounding Whitaker, she did nothing but tremble where she stood. The mean man chuckled maniacally.

"So, Addie, I guess you've decided to be difficult. Unfortunately, we don't really need your consent to go along with our plans. It will only harm you further if you decide to be difficult. The choice is yours, Addie."

"It's Abby. Abby Grant," argued Sami.

"Shush up Sami. If I've said her name wrong, I want her to tell me." he raised his voice louder, as if Abby was deaf. "Full name, previous occupation. Now."

Abby took a sharp intake of breath in an attempt to stifle one of her sobs. "M-my name is..." She was cut off by a gunshot, and ducked instinctively as a bullet was shot against the wall opposite her. She hadn't seen anyone, let alone seen anyone shoot a gun. Still cowering fearfully on the floor, Abby felt her tears drop one by one in rapid succession until the floor she was occupying was glistening. She had never been so scared in her life. Whitaker seemed to find her fear amusing, and guffawed loudly.

"See, lady, that's what's going to happen when you don't do what you're told. It's not like you're more useful to us alive. Maybe next time, I won't miss. The choice is yours, whether you live or die or not, 'cause honestly I don't give a rat's ass about you. All I want is your blood, and you don't have to be alive for me to get what I want."

Abby shook her head. No, no, she wanted to live. She wanted to live, so she could find Peter, so he wouldn't be all alone...

"What if I told you we knew where your son was? And we could use his blood if yours was no good?"

"You're bluffing." Abby spat. She really hoped he was...But she couldn't let Peter in here. Not Peter, no...She felt trapped either way.

"Whatever you say, Annie."

"It's Abby!" protested Sami.

"You shut up!" barked Whitaker. Then addressing Abby again, he continued, "We could just grab your little boy and get him in here, if you wanted to see what happens when I don't get my way..."

Sami whispered. "Stop it. I can't take this anymore..."

"Abigail Julianna Grant." Abby mumbled, cutting Sami off.

Whitaker clucked his tongue and searched around for a pen. "Sorry? I didn't quite get that. Louder."

"Full name - Abigail Julianna Grant! Maiden name - Graham! Previous Occupation - Homemaker! Birthday - July 24th, 1965! Previous address...Previous address...Address..." She couldn't even remember her old address. 13...no, was it 24...? No, no, no...

"Doesn't matter. Now, describe your symptoms when you had the virus."

**************

A mighty weight felt lifted off Anya's shoulders when Greg's recovery turned out to be speedier than she had originally thought. The others still worried about him though; he seemed a lot quieter than usual, and apart from welcoming Naj back into the group, said the bare minimum for every question or comment directed at him. He wasn't well enough to be out of his room yet, but showed no interest in getting up out of bed, which was very unlike Greg. All he wanted to do was sit in bed and think.

"I think Greg's depressed," Anya confided in Tom, who was busy storing the found food in the refrigerator.

Tom nodded nonchalantly. "Of course he is. He and Abby were sweet on each other for quite some time. Now she's gone, and he has no clue how to save her. Maybe he'd even feel responsible, because he wasn't able to protect her. If you were Greg, wouldn't you feel depressed?"

Anya leaned against the refrigerator and sighed. "Yes, I know I would..."

Tom put his arm around Anya and squeezed her shoulder for a second before suddenly taking it back; Sarah had walked into the kitchen, taken a box of crackers, and left. After she was long gone, Tom replaced his arm around Anya's shoulder."I know how Greg feels. I really do. When you were taken by those thugs, it took everything I could not to wallow in self-pity because I should have protected you."

Anya shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry..."

Tom smiled. "It was worth it to go get you back. I don't know what we would've done if we'd lost you."

Anya smiled back for a second before turning back to the original bleak topic. "Abby's been there too. When we found out Naj ran away, the first thing she did was blame herself for yelling at him before. Naj probably feels responsible for Abby's disappearance now, because it was his running away that caused us to have to go look for him and then the helicopter came and took her."

Tom nodded in agreement and went on, "It's just, once you start playing the blame game, it doesn't help. It just makes you feel worse and worse, without saving anyone. Who knows, what if the helicopter had driven right over our house before Naj ran away, and they just plucked her and ran? Whose fault would it have been then? No one's. But it wouldn't matter anyways, because Abby's still gone, and blaming people doesn't bring her back. Either way you feel bad...It's like you're just trapped to feel bad no matter what."

There was a quiet pause and the two survivors let the words sink in for a moment.

After a while, Anya broke the silence with, "I think you should say that at the meeting tonight. And let the others know that it's okay to feel that way. We're all we have left, and we should help each other get through this."

Tom grimaced. "I dunno if I want everyone to know I'm the touchy-feely type. You can say all that if you want."

Anya winced. "It's the kind of thing Abby would say...if she was here..."

**************

"I bet Greg will come up with all sorts of ideas for how to get Abby back," said Naj optimistically. "He already said earlier that he actually might have some ideas, based on a few things she mentioned about herself. He'll share them at the meeting. Then we'll find her. I know we will."

"Yeah..." Al said, trying to keep the glumness out of his voice. He didn't have the heart to tell Naj that there was even the slightest possibility that Abby wasn't coming back. It would be like trying to tell Abby - if she was there - that there was no chance that she would ever find Peter. Even if there was a 99% chance Peter was dead, Abby would always cling to that one percent, until she actually saw her son's body. Al wondered if being naive was its own strength; sure, there was the constant disappointment whenever you discover you're wrong, that people aren't as good as you thought, or things don't work out the way you want them too, but it did keep you going. At least it did in the cases of Abby and Naj. The two weren't even that different, which was probably why they got along so well. They both believed that people were generally good, they were being frequently let down by people who weren't as good as they were expected to be, but both Abby and Naj both managed to stay strong and smiling when they were hurting inside. Both were extremely stubborn as well, Al remembered with a smile.

"Whatcha looking at?" asked Naj, curiously.

Al ruffled his hair. "You, kid."

"Al?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Abby's scared, wherever she is?"

Al thought for about a millisecond before replying, "No way. It's Abby, remember?"

Najid smiled in agreement and gave Al a hug. Poor Al nearly jumped three feet in the air.

* * *

_Author's Note:__ Well, that's it for this chapter! The next chapter will be called "The Meeting." Hint-Hint, Nudge-Nudge! Now I would like to hear from you! Please review whether you liked this section __or not, I could use the advice. :) I was also wondering whether I wrote Tom properly, or if he was too...girly? And did I go overboard with Whitaker? I'd appreciate if you, the reader (and hopefully the reviewer) could offer me some feedback. :)_

_Thanks for reading, and I hope you stick around for Chapter 6!_


	6. Chapter 6: The Meeting

_Update 21st August:_ _Well it took a lot longer than I wanted, but here is another chapter for the fic. This one isn't as long, but hopefully it will tie a few loose ends together. =) _

_I'd like to say thank you to LilaMae, Bella and Elizabeth for leaving me their support, encouragement and feedback. And LOL Lila, yes I am a Heroes fan. And thanks for letting me know what Sami's real name was. I'm definitely going to fix that up. It was bugging me._

_I hope you enjoy this new chapter. And to any new readers I also wanted to say thanks for your interest, and I hope to hear from you too!_

**BBC Survivors Fanfic – Post Finale Fic**

**Chapter 6 – The Meeting**

_(...a few hours later...)_

After Abby was asked all manner of seemingly trivial questions pertaining to her life and medical history – answering each with as little information as possible – she was given a full body scan and was finally left alone in the piercingly white, unnervingly silent and empty cell. The thought that this horrible room would be her "home" for the remainder of the experiment - if she survived it - seemed almost too heartbreaking for her to bear. But, finally, the scientists were not addressing, poking or prodding her, and she seemed to have a break from being a mere test subject. Abby was thankful she was finally on her own and could think her thoughts in peace.

Abby couldn't remember being as scared by another human being as she had been when Whitaker was threatening her...Probably her run-in with Dexter was the closest...Or maybe when she had to look through all the dead bodies at the camp...and later at the hospital. Before the virus she used to be fearless, because there was nothing to fear. Now fear was an everyday thing, she felt nulified by it. She was so frightened by the scientists that held her captive, it seemed an overused, redundant emotion. When they first brought her in here, the slightest sound would make her flinch in fear. Now it was only the thought of Whitaker returning and the nightmare of her being dismembered during an experiment that made her tremble.

Noticing herself becoming more pessimistic than usual, Abby tried to think of something else. She wondered whether she would ever meet the scientists in person, or whether her life would just be compromised of tedius verbal instructions spouted over the intercom as if she were some dumb animal. Dr. Masood seemed a lot more "human" in comparison to the Whitaker that had threatened her through the speaker. If Abby had to be in the "care" of one of them, she definitely would prefer Masood, hands down. She hoped she would never meet Whitaker...

She had been given several pieces of paper that looked like some sort of IQ test. While she had been hungry and exhausted, and easily distracted by her own wayward thoughts, Abby managed to finish in under an hour and obediently pressed the red button that signalled she was done. Someone had swiftly and silently come and picked up her test before fleeing out of the room without a word. That was hours ago, and now Abby was suffering from a horrible combination of cabin fever and severe ennui.

Masood had also told her the reason they were making her do the test was so that they could try to figure out whether there were some neurological factors that made her stronger than others against the virus, and the test showed her brain's reaction to stimulus. Basically it was telling them more about her body, and her overall health scenario...He always explained to her what he was telling her to do, why he was making her do it, and how it would help his study. He also said he would feed her at some point, which was the most importance to Abby at this point.

Tomorrow, a Wednesday apparently, was going to be a blood day. Blood Day. Dr. Masood made it sound like a fun, interesting day that was filled with discoveries about Abby's blood and why it was supposedly so special. He made it sound like so much fun, yet Abby feared it would end with her death, and a new vaccine for the win. Especially if Whitaker was in charge.

She didn't trust any of them. Not even Sami. Unfortunately, Abby was not as naive as she used to be. If Greg was here, he would probably point out that these scientists only wanted her for a specific purpose. In order to get what they wanted, she would become a lab rat. And after they had her blood, and didn't need her anymore, she wouldn't be important. They wouldn't care if she dropped dead, so long as they had what they wanted. Abby clenched her fists and felt her entire body quiver; not so much with fear, more with a weak anger...

Unexpectedly, the door to her cell was opened, and a person in a full body gas suit entered her prison, carrying a clipboard.

Abby looked up at this person, seemed to be a man. It was hard to tell because of the suit's heavy padding. She nodded stiffly, but didn't offer a greeting.

"Hello again, Abby," the voice came, warmly. Dr. Masood. Abby recognized his voice from the speaker. He sounded cheerful for some reason. Or maybe that was how he always sounded. It was hard for Abby to imagine someone else being cheerful when she was so depressed.

"Dr. Masood." Abby returned, politely but emotionlessly.

"Yes, you do remember me!" he exclaimed delightedly, as though praising a small child. "Call me Sami."

Abby nodded, though she knew she wouldn't.

He smiled through his mask and held up the clipboard. "Your results from the scan. All normal. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Abby nodded, though she had not expected otherwise. "Was there supposed to be?"

Sami shrugged. "Forgive me, but we're just trying to find out how you're different from everyone else that either didn't survive or didn't contract the virus. At this point, nothing's been conclusive. We're still eliminating possibilities." Smiling again good-naturedly, he continued, "So there will be quite a few more tests. Your cooperation is very much appreciated."

Abby grimaced. "Can you not just take a blood sample from me and examine it? Surely I've got the antibodies for the bloody virus."

Sami nodded. "Actually, you're right. That's why I was saving the blood test for last. The mystery of 'where the antibodies are' was solved before you even got here. I want to figure out _why_ they are there, and how I can make a vaccine out of them."

Abby sighed. "You make it sound so glamourous. Finding and solving mysteries and the like."

Sami smiled. "Hah...I suppose it is."

There was a silence. Abby attempted to suppress the insistent growls of her empty stomach. It didn't work. She pinkened in embarassment. "Sorry, I am a bit hungry."

Sami laughed. "Well I should've asked if there was anything I could get you. Are you reasonably comfortable?"

Abby stared at him. She didn't know how to answer that. "Right now, all I can think about is food."

Sami nodded briskly. "Sure. I'll bring you a sandwich." He pulled out a black file folder with Abby's name on it. Brandishing a pencil, he prompted, "But first I'll need a list of all your allergies...I don't want to run the risk of killing you."

Abby shook her head. "No! No allergies." She felt her mouth water at the thought of a sandwich. She hadn't had one since before the virus. "A sandwich sounds great, though. Thanks!"

Sami nodded again and got to his feet once he had recorded the data. "Any particular - "

"-Dr. Masood, I am so unbelievably close to eating my own arm. Anything you have will be fine."

He grinned as though she had been joking. "I'll be right back. Promise."

***

It only took a few minutes for everyone to assemble at the table for the Meeting. It was Greg's first time out of bed, and while he was still a bit weak, he was more than motivated to take part in the discussion of how they were going to rescue Abby. He seemed quieter than usual though, having not said a word to anyone before the meeting. Tom, Anya, Greg, Sarah, Al and Najid all sat around the table.

Tom started by getting everyone caught up.

"...and before we knew it she was gone."

Greg frowned at Tom. "So, when you were chasing Dexter...did you kill him?" His voice sounded hoarse.

Tom shook his head fervently. "Naw. Little bugger ran off."

Anya gasped and put a hand to her mouth. She'd forgotten all about Dexter once she had started worrying about Greg and Abby.

Tom shrugged. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. He won't find us. We have to move anyway."

Greg nodded. "We talked about going to Dorset, when...when Abby was with us. We should go there, so there's at least some chance she'll find us."

Tom nodded in agreement.

"Is there a reason someone would want to take her?" offered Anya. "Because if we know that, we might find who took her and why."

"It's a long shot, but you're right." Tom agreed. "So, any ideas? It seemed like they knew they wanted her, and were looking for her. But why...?"

There was a moment of silence. No one had a clue why someone would want to take Abby.

"Well, no offence to Abby or anything, but she's kind of...normal." Sarah said.

Al nodded. "I don't think there's anything about her that's out of the ordinary."

"Watch it." Both Naj and Greg warned at the same time. Al held up his palms in apology.

"No, he's right." Tom said, and shook his head in frustration. "Granted, I don't know much about Abby. Greg. Did she say anything to you that might be important? Like if she was wanted by the state?"

Greg shook his head. He was starting to lose hope already.

Naj furrowed his brow, clearly thinking very hard. "Well, she didn't get the virus for sure. That's pretty special. But none of us did. Why wouldn't they take us too?"

Greg's eyes widened and he pointed at Naj fiercely. "_Exactly_!"

Anya looked quizzically at Greg. "What do you mean? If she didn't get the virus, why would - "

"-But she _did_."

Everyone stared at Greg in surprise. They hadn't known that about their fellow survivor.

"She did?" echoed Naj.

Greg nodded. "That's what makes her special. She got the virus, but she didn't die."

Sarah shrugged. "So what? Who would want her just because she got the virus and lived? It's all in the past now. She's alive, so are the rest of us. Why is that such a big deal?"

"Well, think, who would it be a big deal to?" Tom brought up.

"Samantha!" breathed Al. "She's out to get us now."

"But if she'd wanted to take one of us, it would be Anya," Tom argued. "Again, no offence to Abby, but the government views her as a housewife. They wouldn't kidnap a housewife...would they?"

"Maybe they wanted her because she's our leader?" Naj suggested.

"Or, Al's right, and Samantha took Abby not because she would be useful, but because she was our leader," answered Greg hesitantly. "I don't know about that..."

"Honestly if Samantha took Abby, we could go get her back in a second, like we did Anya," Sarah said with a shrug.

"But none of her men wear those weird masks that the people that took Abby did. It was as if they were afraid of getting sick. Samantha's men have been exposed already, and wouldn't have bothered with the masks." Anya pointed out. "And plus, she doesn't have all those vehicles that took Abby away."

"And if Samantha took Abby, wouldn't she try using her as a bargaining chip? You know, to try to get us to follow her plan of sustainable development for future generations or else they...do something bad to her?" suggested Tom.

Greg nodded in agreement. "The fact that they haven't said a word about Abby's kidnap probably means they're not the jerks that took her."

"Okay, so if it's not Samantha's people that took Abby...who did?" Al wondered aloud.

"Why would the fact that she survived her contraction of the virus matter to the person that took her?" added Anya.

"Where would they have taken her once they took her?" Naj asked.

"How would they have found her?" asked Greg.

"I'll write all the questions down," announced Sarah, who was clearly out of ideas.

"We're going to be here all night." Al complained.

***

A few hours later, Abby was still waiting for her sandwich. She felt like her stomach was eating itself from the inside. She was finding it very difficult to wait patiently. Where was Sami already? For a second she wondered if he was getting in trouble for bringing her food. But if he didn't, she would die, and be useless to the other scientists. So that couldn't be why he was taking so long. Maybe the food storage was on the other side of the facility and he was taking a long time to walk back and forth. Or maybe he had never intended to actually give her the sandwich. Maybe this was all some twisted mind game of some sort...

Finally the door opened and a man walked inside. Abby ran to the door, ready to sink her teeth into the sandwich, but stopped herself abruptly. The person on the other side of the cell was not wearing a mask, let alone a suit. He was completely exposed to her. But he carried no sandwich, to Abby's obvious disapproval. The man was Asian, maybe Indian, and he was very young. He had a sheepish smile on his face. Must be Dr. Masood, thought Abby, who was not nearly as excited as she thought she'd be. If only he had brought a sandwich.

"Hello again, Abby."

Abby nodded. "Hi." Maybe he was a scientist...and a magician, and would make the sandwich appear out of thin air.

"I'm sorry about being gone so long again. Whitaker asked me to analyze your IQ test and I got caught up in the moment I guess."

"Anything interesting?"

"As you might expect, yes." Sami grinned.

Abby rolled her eyes. Why couldn't he stop this little charade and just get her some food already...? "Why's that?"

"You have normal-to-above-average intelligence."

"So? I probably got the same score as about 80% of the population."

"Exactly. All the tests so far have concluded that you're no different from everyone else." Sami grinned broadly.

"Well I'm very happy for you." And also very hungry.

"After the results of the next few tests, we should stumble on something, and that something should be big. You've been here only about a day and I'm already pulling my hair in frustration."

"You make that sound like it's a good thing."

"Oh, but it is." Sami nodded fervently. "It tells me that your case is unusual, and therefore a good mystery. I can't wait to solve this one. But it could take a while."

Abby felt her stomach clench. She didn't like the sound of that. "How long's a while?"

Sami's smile faded. "Um, not a terribly long time...Could be anything from a few months to a year or so."

_Author's Note: Hope you liked that! Please offer me some feedback, if you have the time. :) Constructive criticism welcomed! The next chapter will be called The Answer. Stay tuned!_


	7. Chapter 7: Breaking Point

Update 18th October 2009: 

Author's Note: Okay, I'm officially a jerk. I'm sorry. I can't believe I left this fic so long without an update. Hopefully this *sort of* long one will make up for it. (TWSS) Curse you Math and Chemistry. Curse you. Anyway, I'd really like to thank Fategirl, Lila, Bella, and Bcargill9 – Thank you all so much for your reviews, and hopefully this chapter will recussitate this fic. I'm afraid I lied. This chapter is not called "The Answer." I've decided to leave that one for the next chapter. -_^ This one is called "Breaking Point."

Thanks for all your interest, and please leave a review once you've finished! You know how much I like them. Thanks so much for reading!

ObsessedFanStar58

=)

* * *

Survivors BBC Fanfic – Cataclysm

Chapter 7: "Breaking Point"

After the reasonably successful meeting subsided just before dawn, the remaining survivors called it a night, accepting that they were not going to uncover anything more, especially because they were so tired. But as everyone retired to bed, no one was more disappointed than Greg. He felt guilty, and no matter what, could not shake the feeling that he had let Abby down by not piecing together what had happened to her. The loss of Abby had made him had feel empty, barren inside and out, but the sudden realization that he could not help her depressed him even more than when she had disappeared in the first place. His empty feeling had turned to numbness, the numbness to sorrow, and now he found himself teetering on the edge of dispair, the abyss of depression. He practically never spoke anymore – much less a few grunts here and there – and never came out of his room, where he spent his time mentally dissecting the contents of his brain, trying to remember anything that Abby had told him about herself, which would help greatly in the attempt to find out anything related to her disappearance. Sometimes he even dreamed possible scenarios she might have found herself in, but upon his waking, he would map them all out and after hours of working on them, determine the idea stupid and impossible. He just couldn't give up on Abby, no matter what.

* * * *

"Don't know why he's so depressed and all. I mean, Abby was great and I'm sure she's missed, but being depressed really isn't going to get her back," said Sarah matter-of-factly. She was watching Naj make Kraft Dinner for the whole group, which was quite a pathetic sight, due to the fact that they had to ration the meal to barely a quarter of the "suggested serving" on the box. They were running out of food, and they were running out of food fast.

"Hey, leave him alone. He's just lost his best friend. It might take a while, but surely he'll come out of it eventually," Tom said, defending his friend. "Right, Anya?"

Anya shrugged passively, as she sifted through the food items, mentally calculating whether winter would arrive before or after they ran out of food, and they would be unable to travel for a while. "Everyone reacts to grief differently," she announced calmly. "Some have no reaction, while others are more...expressive. Sometimes it's a long time before the person hearing the bad news actually processes it, not even considering the time it would take to actually accept the loss, get over it and move on with their life." Anya had frozen with her back to the others for a few moments, and blinked away a single tear that threatened to fall from her heavy eyes.

Al frowned, unaware of Anya's sudden change in mood. "So, you don't know how long it'll be before Greg can..." He stopped, a bit unsure how to phrase his thought.

Anya shook her head, filling in Al's unfinished question. "Could be anything from a few days, or possibly several years. Especially if they were sweet on each other. They found each other after the virus first before any of us. They were able to trust each other first, and probably have a special bond that none of us can understand. There will always be a special relationship between them. Whether romantic or not," Anya added firmly.

"And what about the rest of us?" Sarah asked.

The others chose to ignore her question, though they too, had the same question burnt into their minds. As a result, an uneasy silence crashed over the room like a violent wave on a coastal shelf, sucking all the life from that conversation. A few awkward minutes passed before someone - thankfully - broke it.

"Naj," said Al, softly, "go see if Greg needs anything."

Najid, who seemed grateful to have an excuse to leave the room, uncoiled himself from the wicker chair he was nestled in, and walked over to his old room that sheltered Greg. He really didn't have a problem with Greg staying in his old room; his only request was that his parents' room stay empty, as a sign of respect. The other survivors allowed him this one wish, and set themselves up on the couches in the living room, or other vacant apartments in the building.

He knocked on the door and heard a muffled grunt in response. Naj could already tell that it must not be a very good day for Greg. On a day where the gears of his mind were whirring away, he would at least say an optimistic "come in!" Once he had given up, his responses were a dull monotone. Naj nonchalantly opened the door to his old bedroom and smiled briefly at Greg.

"Hello, Greg."

Greg looked a bit surprised to see the boy – perhaps he had thought it was be one of the others – but he smiled back weakly. "Hi, Najid," he said, simply. "What time is it?"

Naj gestured to his Star Wars alarm clock. "Little after one." He folded his arms and looked peculiarly at Greg, but his stare was more curious than judgemental. "Want some lunch?"

Greg exhaled abruptly. Clearly he had not even thought of looking at the clock – that actually resembled an action figure more than a clock – and had not been aware of how late it actually was. He coughed, and looked Najid in the eye.

"Sorry...Well, I really appreciate you letting me sleep in your room." Looking around, he added with a slight chuckle, "this reminds me of my son's room. He would be about your age now."

"Don't worry about it. You're injured and all."

"I'm fine."

"Then why can't you get out of bed?"

There was no answer, just a muffled cough.

Najid smiled politely at Greg. "I didn't know you had a son."

"Well I only really told...her."

Najid nodded understandingly. "I miss her too." Looking at his feet for a second, he said quietly, but clearly, "I hate how we don't really 'know' each other, you know?"

There was a scoff from the man in the bed. "I don't think half of us can scarcely say we know the other half. We really don't 'chat' with each other, it's all about 'surviving' now. It won't be long before we're not even friends, more like distant...family you never really talk to, but are expected to associate with."

The boy understood, and nodded grimly. "You want some lunch? We found some macaroni and cheese. Anya said I could make it."

Greg seemed grateful to have a change in subject. "Mac 'n cheese? I don't think I had that since I was about your age...Good stuff. Never goes bad." He grinned.

"So do you want some?" asked Naj with a trace of a smile.

"Is there enough for everybody?" asked Greg.

"Yeah. It's nice of you to ask, though."

Greg smiled at the boy. "I love the simplicity of good ol' mac n' cheese. Definitely one of the only things I could make as a child. Even now I bet I'd burn it."

Naj nodded tactfully and said with just a hint of sarcasm, "Well, it can actually be quite complex. 'Cause first you have to balance the cheese to the pasta...then you have to take the milk, butter, salt and pepper into account...and watch it so it won't burn. It's very complex, nothing but pure science."

Greg's eyes widened, and he froze as still as a statue.

Najid looked at him quizzically, made insecure by his fellow survivor's change in mood. "You all right, Greg?"

Greg nodded fervently. "Yes, yes! I'm fine. Thanks, bud. I'll join you guys in a moment, there's just something that...just occurred to me."

"Sure. See ya soon." Naj shrugged, left the room and joined the other survivors at the table.

Greg found himself laughing for the first time in what seemed like years. He wondered, was there a chance that his instincts were right...?

* * * *

"Abby."

Mhhm?

"Abby, wake up!"

"What?" A very groggy Abby mumbled irritably.

"I think I might have the answer to solving this."

"What?" She was still not completely awake.

"You know, the virus puzzle. Your immunity." _How could she have forgotten already?_

"Oh..." There was a pause. "Why couldn't this have waited until I was awake?"

"Because I just thought of it. But what I don't understand is why you're still asleep. Don't you know that it's after one?"

Huh!?

Abby opened her eyes and looked up at Sami, who had his head cocked to one side, looked like he was trying to figure something out; the gears in his brain were running full tilt.

"What time did you say it was?"

"It's after one. One-oh-nine to be more specific."

"Huh..." After one...? Really? "Oh, well..." She felt herself nodding off again.

"Abby, look at me for a sec."

"I have such a headache...need to sleep it off." Abby moaned.

"Just do it."

Abby obeyed and flinched when Sami shone a flashlight in her eyes.

"Unnnh!! What'd you do that for?" she slurred angrily, and fought him off. Sami shook his head grimly, and grabbed her right forearm. _This isn't good..._

"Abby, this is serious. Did anyone besides me give you anything to eat or drink?"

"Hunh! You said you were going to get me a sam'widge...and you...and you didn't. You lied...you lied to me...Why would you lie to me, Sami...? Lies...Why?"

She was clearly out of sorts. But what was wrong with her? _Apathy, dilated pupils, fatigue, paranoia, fever..._

"Abby. What happened when I left you?"

"I...don't...remember..."

"Think."

"A coffee...with, with...what was it...? Oh...a sam'widge, of course." She started to laugh shakily, with sharp intakes of breath.

Sami exhaled sharply. _Oh, this is not good_. "Who, Abby? Who gave it to you?"

"I was hungry...I don't remember...But he was so nice. Yes that's right. He was lovely...I wish I could have seen him through his mask..."

"Abby, you need to come with me now. Right now." Sami swallowed nervously. _Interference. Not good._

"Nooooo..." Abby moaned, and curled up into a very tight ball. "Just let me sleep..."

"No! Don't go to sleep! Come on." Sami pleaded, and took her hand again, desperately trying to pull her off the pillow...

She sat up and shrieked; and rightly so: her face, pillow and clothes were all drenched in blood. Her blood.

"No, Abby, it's okay, come on. Just follow me." Sami begged, and held the blanket to her face in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He tried to get her to her feet, but Abby had other ideas.

"I need to go wash up, now..." she murmured. "Greg, don't wait for me. Just go ahead, now." She irritably swatted Sami's hands away. She stood on her own for just a few moments, but collapsed in a dead faint a few seconds later.

Sami caught Abby's limp form just before she hit the ground. She wasn't nearly as light as she had been before. "Damn."

He called frantically for the other scientists to help carry Abby to the med lab. He had to get her there soon...if his suspicions were right, he had to get her there within the hour – her life depended on it.

* * *

Author's Note: And that's it! =) Opinions, anyone? Next up is "The Answer." (And this time I mean it.)


End file.
